The Daily Adventures of the All-Female Team
by argentia-writes
Summary: The arrival of an all-female military team from the West Area results in some very opinionated remarks - and inevitable hijinks. (implied Ishvalan!AU.)
1. Introduction

The Daily Adventures of Amestris Military's First All-Female Team

 _CENTRAL HEADQUARTERS HOME TO AMESTRIS' FIRST ALL-FEMALE MILITARY TEAM_

 _Elizabeth Roberts, Central Times_

 _CENTRAL CITY - History has been made this week. For the first time since the founding of Amestris' military, a team consisting of exclusively female officers has been assembled. Headed by Lieutenant Colonel Katherine Thompson, the team consists of Major Alexandria "Silverbone Alchemist" Thompson, Sergeant Maude Abernathy, Captain Beatriz Porter-Perez, Warrant Officer Andromeda Wilson, and Lance Corporal Isabella Breedlove._

 _We here at Central Times hope the team will continue to serve and protect our country well into the future._

A slight crinkling of paper reached Lieutenant Colonel Hutching's ears. Her eyes flicked to the source of the noise, which turned out to be Sergeant Abernathy gripping a newspaper in now white-knuckled hands.

She flung the newspaper into the air (which then fluttered down and landed on a moving box so full it was bursting at the seams) and sat down at her empty desk in a huff. "First all-female team since the founding of _Amestris,_ and we only get four damn sentences in the third page of the newspaper. We were crammed next to a shoe polish ad! This is why I go with the _Neighbourhood Herald."_ She grumbled to herself.

"Don't whine, Sergeant. I'm sure our presence in Central Headquarters next week will certainly result in something... _interesting."_

The Lieutenant Colonel looked up to meet the eyes of the five other women in the room, a wry smile splitting her face.

" _Venimus, Vidimus, Vincimus_."

Introduction of Characters (For Future Reference):

o Sergeant/Major Maude Laura Abernathy- age: 24. 5'4"

· Golden-blonde hair, (chin length bangs, waist-length in back, natural waves), small nose, tiny lips, straight eyebrows, blue-green eyes.

o Major Alexandria Jane Thompson- age 26. State Alchemist- Silver Bone. 6'3"

· Medium brown hair (shoulder-length, slight wave), big lips, defined eyebrows, light green eyes, smiles often, average nose

o Warrant Officer Andromeda Hannah Wilson- age 23. 5'1"

· Warm brown hair (just past shoulders, straight, somewhat curled in at ends), short mouth (lack of cupids bow), soft eyebrows, maple syrup brown eyes, freckles, short round nose

o Lance Corporal Isabella Gertrude Breedlove- age 20 (and a half! She insists). 5'5"

· Light brown hair (past hips, straight, thick), dusting of freckles, button nose, blue eyes, cherubic features

o Captain Beatriz Palmira Porter - age 25. 5'7"

· Dark brown hair (chest-length, very straight), straight/big nose, dark eyebrows, dark brown eyes

o Lieutenant Colonel Katherine Yvette Hutchings- age 28. 5'6"

Dirty blonde hair (chin-length, straight-across bangs. Straight, curved in at ends.). wide mouth, straight eyebrows, hazel green eyes, curved nose.

 _Promotion Dates, In-Story: September 1st, 1915: Sergeant Abernathy has been promoted to Sergeant Major._


	2. Episode 1

West City, Female Military Bunks, Floors 6-5.

January 15th, 1914, 5:24 AM

'Wrath at 5 AM'

Warrant Officer Wilson's morning on Friday, January 15th, began with a loud shriek from the room below hers at 5:24 a.m.

As Warrant Officer Wilson cracked her sleepy eyes open, from deep within her soul, the fiery demons from the inner depth of hell awoke. She was angry enough to make Satan himself flinch in fear.

She jumped out of bed and slammed her room door open. The resulting bang woke up everyone else in the women's bunks, especially those who weren't awoken by the scream just minutes before.

Her footsteps thunked loudly underneath her on the stairs, and soon, she approached the culprit's room's door.

Using one hand, she nearly punched the door open. Inside the room, everyone went silent as the door quietly creaked open.

Private Elizabeth Gregory and the unranked Ms. Annabelle Quincy dropped the alarm clocks they were readying to toss at each other. Private Lucy Franklin paused in her tirade of screeches, as the three women slowly turned around in terror.

Even though Warrant Officer Wilson was clutching a fluffy white pillow like a stuffed animal, and her hair was tousled with sleep, and her eye-circles were black beneath her bottom lid, and her feminine, pink-and-white striped pyjamas hung loosely and wrinkled off her frame, she was the image of wrath incarnate.

Her eyes were contorted with a tired lividness that any human being should fear, lest they become the target of her rage.

The three women's eyes grew wider, and their pupils shrank, as Warrant Officer Wilson's eyebrows sank lower and lower, and her mouth twisted into a scowl worthy to compete with a gargoyle's.

She opened her mouth, and began to speak.

Later that day, Gregory, Quincy, and Franklin's commanding officers remarked on their odd behaviour.

"Is something all right, Private Gregory, Private Franklin, Ms. Quincy?" asked Corporal John Langley. The women jerked around instantaneously, and their traumatized expression (complete with open, gaping mouths, and near-tears on Ms. Quincy's part) silenced him.


	3. Episode 2

Central HQ

July 20th, 1915, 12:47 PM

'Revenge'

Lieutenant Colonel Hutchings' team was just settling into their new office in Central HQ, when a boy no older than sixteen burst in.

"Sir-" Sergeant Abernathy began, and he flashed his silver pocket watch at her. She went silent, and sat down quietly. She began to quickly unpack a cardboard box of office supplies.

The white-haired boy traipsed ever-so-casually up to the Lieutenant Colonel's desk.

"Hello, sorry to bother you…" his red eyes glanced down at the nameplate on the Lieutenant Colonel's desk. "Lieutenant Colonel. Do you know where Colonel Mustang is? It seems you've replaced him in his office, ma'am."

Lieutenant Colonel Hutchings rose up from under her desk with a disinterested look on her face. "And you are?"

The boy grinned. He flashed his metal right hand (which was, interestingly, in the style of old Ishvalan automail) at her, and said, "I'm Major Elric, the Fullmetal Alchemist. I just back here after a mission and it seems the Colonel has moved. Could I…borrow someone? To help guide me around?"

Something in the boy's increasingly mischievous grin tipped the Lieutenant Colonel in to the nature of Elric's true intentions, but she didn't make any remark.

"Sure, Major. How about you take… Major Thompson. Go ahead, Silverbone." Lieutenant Colonel Hutchings waved her hand dismissively and disappeared under her desk again, to fiddle around with the rusting gears of the drawers.

A very tall woman near the front of the room perked her head up and saluted towards the Lieutenant Colonel.

She offered a handshake and a polite smile to Major Elric, which he returned. He leaned in towards her ear, (which was quite hard, given that she was at least six foot three and he five foot six.) and muttered something.

By the time he was finished, a wickedly happy smile had split across Major Thompson's face. She nodded and followed Major Elric out the door, which shut with a small _snap_ behind them.

"I don't know what you just did, Lieutenant Colonel, but it's going to be messy." Lance Corporal Breedlove stated. Lieutenant Colonel stifled a snicker, from her vantage point behind the desk.

_000_

Five minutes later, a loud _boom_ from the courtyard rattled all of the windows in Central HQ. Soldiers crowded at the windows to get a look at what was taking place.

Lieutenant Colonel Hutchings sat behind her desk, perfectly composed, as her subordinates crowded the windows behind her.

The door, now sporting a few cracks, groaned open. In came the very dusty and very triumphant Major Thompson and Major Elric.

"Don't. Ask." Major Thompson stated.

The grin on Elric's face disappeared once he saw the monetary cost and pile of paperwork he was handed the next day as a result of his collateral damage.


	4. Episode 3

North City, North City Family Grocer (EST. 1881)

June 1st, 1915, 2:04 PM

'Arguments'

The employees in the general store stood up a little straighter, and worked a little faster when two women in military uniforms walked in, accompanied by the _ting_ of the bell placed just above the door.

Even though the uniforms communicated that these women were in positions of authority, their appearance and interactions with each other did not.

The taller of the two (by only a couple inches) was explaining something with great gusto, with hand motions to match. The shorter one appeared to be very close to nodding off where she stood, and sure enough, when her companion went off to look around the general store, the woman sat down on a bench and fell asleep.

Two children, one around the age of five, and the other around the age of eight, walked up behind the dozing woman. Her blond hair was splayed all around her, already coming out of its messy ponytail.

The younger girl poked the woman's head, and the children jumped back. When she didn't stir, the children turned their heads towards each other and grinned. They each grabbed a lock of golden hair, and began to work.

In the back of the store, Lance Corporal Breedlove was struggling to find a carton of milk. Well, it wasn't that she couldn't find it, she couldn't…. reach it.

"Curse these high ceilings!" She muttered. They had to be eight feet high, at least. Lance Corporal Breedlove was but a short, brunette ant to the tall shelves. Sergeant Abernathy wouldn't have had much luck either.

"Oh!" She said. That's it! I'll get Sergeant Abernathy to sit on my shoulders and reach it, simple enough.

"Sergeant?" She called. She walked over to the bench where she last left the Sergeant, and was surprised to find an empty one.

She shot a cursory glance at the window, while searching for the Sergeant. When her eyes met a pair of horrified blue-green ones on the other side, she froze.

And she began to laugh.

There the Sergeant sat, on a picnic table, just outside the store. Two little girls were stationed on either side of her, doing something with her hair. This 'something' was two braids on either side of her head, curled up to meet where they began, in a style that reminded Lance Corporal Breedlove of an old-fashioned milkmaid. The soft pink bows placed haphazardly all over made the entire girlish hairstyle just _perfect_ , contrasting with the severity and formality of her military uniform.

"You sure have pretty hair, Miss Sergeant!" The older of the two said, with an accent characteristic of this area of Amestris. Sergeant Abernathy scowled impressively deeply.

Lance Corporal Breedlove made sure that the Sergeant never lived this down.


	5. Episode 4

Central City, Central City HQ, Lt. Colonel Hutchings' Office

December 28th, 1915, 1:02 AM

'Late-Night Discussions'

At the exact moment the clock in Lieutenant Colonel Hutchings' office hit one AM, everything went straight downhill.

That was the exact moment that Captain Porter slammed her overdue paperwork down onto her already creaking desk in frustration, and just as Corporal Breckenridge and Warrant Officer Wilson stood, grinding their teeth at each other.

"Corporal…." Sergeant Major Abernathy whined tiredly. Why'd the Lt. Colonel always make them stay so late?!

"Not now, Sergeant Major." Corporal Breckenridge groaned. "They're called Brigadier Generals, Warrant Officer!"

"You're wrong! Out west, they're called Commodores!" Warrant Officer Wilson hissed.

"Well then, the West is wrong, isn't it?"

"No, _you're_ just wrong."

Normally, these two were on good terms with each other. But, when two stubborn wills and contrasting opinions collided, well…

"Commodore!"

"Brigadier General!"

"Commodore!"

"Brigadier General!"

" _Commodore!"_

 _"_ _Brigadier General!"_

"You're both wrong," Captain Porter stated monotonously. The two arguing officers' focus snapped to her. "They're called 4th Degree Commanders."

" _Sure, in the country of Díazza they are!"_ The two shrieked together. Captain Porter's left eyebrow twitched massively, and her normally calm demeanour melted away.

Soon, the already cramped office was filled with angered shrieks of three people trying out-yell one another.

Major Thompson slept on in the corner, book laid on her face.

"She can sleep like a brick, can't she?" Lance Corporal Breedlove muttered jealously, her voice nearly covered by the three officer's yelling.

"Mmmhmmm." Sleepily muttered the Sergeant Major.

1 AM was not a good time for work.


	6. Episode 5

Castrye-Dromir, North Area, Amestris

January 16th, 1914, 11:30 AM

'Heat'

The North was not a good place to send Captain Porter for a mission. Despite her military training, and her renowned toughness in the elements, Captain Porter hated snow. Despised it. It was the bane of her existence. If she could replace all snow with dirt, she would.

This hatred was mainly caused by where she was raised. Captain Porter was raised in the notoriously warm Southern country of Díazza, and she had grown quite accustomed to heat and sweat and dirt. And sunstroke. It had happened several times. Wasn't that pleasant to be quite honest; it made your brain feel like baked mush inside your skull.

All in all, Captain Porter was absolutely miserable. Cold= evil. Cold=living embodiment of human suffering. Snow= _despicable powder that seems innocent but is actually complete rubbish and no fun at all._

Captain Porter curled up on an icy bench right in front of North HQ, quietly cursing Mother Nature with a vocabulary that could make a sailor blush.

"Ah, yes, Captain Porter, here it is-" The man stopped. Where did she go? "Captain Porter? I've got the document you came for. Where are you?"

She wasn't anywhere to be seen. Little to the man's knowledge, she was buried under the pile of _freaking white shit_ resting on the bench, too miffed to move, or alert him to her presence.

"Hey, Manny? The Captain's gone somewhere."

A muffled voice replied.

"Okay." The man walked inside, and slammed the door just hard enough dislodge a mound of snow from the Captain's face.

Just as this happened, a young boy and his mother walked past. "Mommy, why is that face blue?"

"Oh, it's a decoration, honey, to remind people to stay warm!"

That day, Captain Porter silently vowed to destroy every single snowflake in existence singlehandedly- after she recovered from the cold she was definitely going to contract from her harrowing experience.


	7. Episode 6

Central City, Central City HQ, Break Room

March 4th, 1916, 9:37 AM

'Coffee'

The break room in Central HQ was always faithfully stocked. You wanted crackers? Top shelf, third cabinet. Coffee filters? Same place. Sugar? Middle shelf, first cabinet from the left. Actual coffee, not that watered-down crap that Captain Smith always drank? Under the third cabinet, second drawer down.

But, when Major Thompson searched said cabinet, the coffee tin, usually on its glorified pedestal, was missing.

Her world came crashing down around her ears. _NO! Not the coffee! What kind of monster-_

Major Thompson spotted an unassuming mug, resting on the scrubbed wooden table a few steps away. Her eyes narrowed into evil slits as she stood up.

She roughly grasped the handle of the mug and inspected the last dregs of its contents.

She cocked an eyebrow at the dark brown flecks at the bottom, but when she sniffed it, she could feel indescribable rage build up inside of her soul.

Whoever took the last bits of coffee was going to suffer her withdrawal-induced fury.

_000_

The second Lieutenant Colonel Hutchings opened her sleep-ridden eyes, a dirty coffee cup was shoved just inches in front of her face. She started impressively violently, shoving her chair back almost a foot.

She could feel her chair begin to tip back from the force of her start, so to brace herself, she rammed her forearms into her overcrowded and overworked desk.

Her eyes followed the trembling hand holding the cup up to a blue-clothed arm, and further still up to Major Thompson's heavily shadowed, deeply furious face.

Major Thompson gritted her teeth and growled her words from behind them, "Did you do this?"

Lieutenant Colonel Hutchings scoffed and turned her head back to the piles of paper, but again started when the off-white cup was again shoved under her nose.

"Answer. My. Question." Major Thompson snarled. "All of the coffee in the break room is gone. Did you do this?"

True terror lit up behind Lieutenant Colonel Hutchings' eyes. "N-no. If I had drunk coffee, do you think I would be able to sleep?

Flashbacks to when Lieutenant Colonel Hutchings was only Major Hutchings and had her first cup of coffee ever flashed through Major Thompson's mind. She cringed. "No."

As Major Thompson turned to leave, Lieutenant Colonel Hutchings let out a relieved breath of air, but Major Thompson wasn't done with her yet. She turned her head to the side ever-so-slightly to the left, and spat, "Do your goddamn work, ma'am."

Lieutenant Colonel Hutchings blanched and leapt to the task, just as the wooden door shut, leaving her alone in the office.

_000_

Sergeant Major Abernathy groaned and grunted, but her white-gloved fingers still stayed six stubborn inches from "Military Discharge Records~ 1880-1900". She scowled at the innocent, brown leather-bound book, and then at the innocent-looking stool a few feet away from her. She decided to swallow her pride.

Settling the stool just underneath the location of the file she needed, so it brushed against "State Alchemist Exam Results ~ 1800" on the lower shelf, she didn't hear a slight rustling on the other side of the bookshelf.

Sergeant Major Abernathy made a small noise of victory as she grasped the book and turned it over in her hands, but that noise quickly became a loud scream.

An extremely angry face was inches from hers.

She tumbled off of the stool, as the quintessence of grace, and landed right on her tailbone.

"Ugh," She groaned, rubbing the injured spot. "What the hell, man? You always sneak up on people like that in the records room? Almost gave me a heart-"

The Sergeant Major's angry tirade trailed off as the person came around the shelf, sacrificing the barrier between them.

It was the Major, holding a coffee cup like it was the vilest thing in the world.

"Oh, come on, Major, don't make a habit of that, you almost killed me-" Sergeant Major Abernathy stopped abruptly as said coffee cup was shoved under her nose.

"Did you do this?"

Sergeant Major Abernathy raised an eyebrow. "What?"

"Drink the last bits of coffee."

She gave the Major an incredulous look. "Major, I hate coffee. I drink tea on a regular basis."

Major Thompson nodded solemnly. She patted the Sergeant on the head, stood up, and walked away without another word.

The Sergeant rested her hand on her head where the Major had touched it, her face twisted into a look of utter confusion.

_000_

Warrant Officer Wilson snickered evilly. Just around the corner from where she was hidden in the shadows, two very confused subordinate officers were attempting to disentangle their papers from the huge net hung above them, nine feet in the air.

That would teach them to disrespect a superior officer.

Sure, she knew she was supposed to be an adult. She _was_ an adult. Just not a very adult-y one.

She contented herself with watching them flail and whine a bit, before she turned around, and came toe to toe with Major Thompson.

Warrant Officer Wilson choked and whitened. She immediately snapped her right hand up to her brow in a neat salute.

"That wasn't me-" She began, glancing at the exasperated officers.

"Where were you at 9:30 this morning?" Major Thompson asked.

"Uh," Warrant Officer Wilson floundered. She had spent most of her morning setting up the net instead of doing her work, and she had just denied doing so. She sighed and dropped her hand from her brow, instead stabbing her thumb at the chaos around the corner. "I was setting that up."

She squeezed her eyes shut, ready to either be chastised or for the Major to begin laughing raucously. When no sound came, she cracked one open.

She was alone.

Warrant Officer Wilson frowned. "Huh."

She decided to go back to watching the officers, an evil grin splitting her face once again.

_000_

Lance Corporal Breedlove and Captain Porter yawned in sync. Both had matching bruise-like circles under their eyes, though Lance Corporal Breedlove's hair was still flattened on one side from her pillow, while Captain Porter's hair was flattened in the back instead.

Lance Corporal Breedlove groaned some indecipherable grievance and tapped her forehead to the table.

"That was not a good idea." She said, the words muffled by the wood surface. Captain Porter yawned in reply.

"Wha-" _yawn_ "-what else do you think we could've done? The deadline was today. At least we got it in on time."

Lance Corporal Breedlove stated, "But at a heavy price."

"Heavy price? What would you rather suffer, the Lieutenant Colonel's anger or sleep deprivation?" Captain Porter asked, as snide as was possible on three hours of sleep.

Lance Corporal Breedlove was quiet for a minute. "Sleep deprivation," She admitted.

"That's what I thought."

They continued suffering in silence, until Lance Corporal Breedlove's deep breaths became ones of sleep, and Captain Porter became aware of a dark-haired head rising up from the side of the table like a prairie dog popping out of its hole.

Captain Porter's exhausted body could only manage a sharp inhale and widened eyes at the sight of the Major.

She gave her a sloppy salute, and asked. "Why're you creeping around like that, Major?"

The Major answered by abruptly standing up and slapping the base of a battered coffee mug to the table.

"Who does this belong to?" She demanded.

Captain Porter blinked slowly several times before she comprehended what the Major was asking her.

She shrugged. "Lance Corporal?"

"Mmm?"

"You know who this mug belongs to?"

Lance Corporal Breedlove peeked one bleary blue eye out from the shadows of her hair.

"Eh. Everyone owns the mugs. Everyone uses them. They're all given to the break room by people. I gave that one." She nodded at the mug. She closed her eyes once more slipped back into deep sleep.

Major Thompson brought the mug back up to her eye level and gave it a contemplative once-over.

She gasped loudly enough to make Lance Corporal Breedlove jolt awake, and slammed the mug back onto the table.

"Thanks, Lance Corporal!" She exclaimed, racing out the door.

The silence filling the room after the Major left was all-encompassing.

That is, until Captain Porter began to snore like a hibernating bear.

_000_

The coffee grounds at the bottom of the cup weren't piled to one edge, like someone was tipping it up to drink from it! They were all scattered around, like someone was stirring it while they were drinking!

There was only one person who drank their coffee like that.

Major Thompson threw open the huge oak door so violently that it slammed into the wall.

Seven pairs of human eyes and one pair of canine snapped up to her.

She pointed an accusing finger at a certain Colonel, and growled, " _You."_


	8. Episode 7

Central City, Greenwich District, Greenwich Apartments, Apartment 310

November 3rd, 1915, 9:38 PM

'Spatter'

Loud laughter echoed up the deserted stairwell, followed soon by three women of differing heights, two of which were bent over in raucous laughter.

As they came upon the third floor, Major Thompson crowed, "And so I told this kid: I'm in the military, did you need something? And he goes as white as a sheet, but he says, 'I've interrupted something important, haven't I?' and I thought, _well_ , _duh_ , but what came out of my mouth was: 'Impossible. I work for the government.'"

Warrant Officer Wilson's laughter became shuddering breaths as her laughter descended to an almost painful level, so much so that she couldn't breathe. Sergeant Major Abernathy threw her head back and cackled like a banshee. Major Thompson seemed satisfied with her handiwork, grinning down at the two officers.

Her smile melted away as she looked down the corridor. Warrant Officer Wilson and the Sergeant Major became aware of the sudden change in atmosphere. They looked up at the Major, their laughter fading into confused smiles.

"What's wrong, Alex?" Sergeant Major Abernathy asked. She knew that look: furrowed eyebrows, darkened eyes, the works.

"Isabella's door is wide open." She stated. Her walking sped up to a jog, and a chorus of 'what!'s sounded behind her.

Running footsteps trailed off into cautious tip-toeing as the wooden door to Apartment 310 creaked further open.

Maude and Andromeda came into the room soon after Alex entered it. The dim lighting of the room sent the Major's back into harshly lit relief, though nothing could mask the trembling of her body.

Maude and Andromeda were fully alarmed now.

Alex turned slowly, her face as white as a sheet, a uniform jacket clutched in her sweating hands.

A rusty red substance was splashed across the front of the jacket. It seemed to have dried quite a while ago.

Cold terror bloomed in Maude and Andromeda's stomachs.

"When did you last see Isabella?" Alex whispered.

Maude and Andromeda made eye contact, and both shook their heads.

Alex's head perked up abruptly. She shoved the jacket into their hands, and ripped her gun out of her hidden hip holster, just as the bathroom door opened, spilling bright light into the dark room outside.

Isabella walked out of the bathroom, and heard the clack of a gun being cocked.

She paused in scrunching her wet hair with a white towel, and slowly looked up.

Maude and Andromeda were staring listlessly at her stained uniform jacket. Alex had her military-issue pistol aimed right between Isabella's blue eyes.

Alex groaned loudly and slapped a hand to her forehead, shoving her gun right back to the hip holster it had recently parted from.

The room went silent as Maude's scowl became deeper and deeper.

She took the jacket from Andromeda's hands and flung it at Isabella's face, which then smacked right into her nose. The jacket rustled to the floor.

"What's wrong?" She asked.

"You scared the shit out of us! What is on your jacket?!" The three women shouted, though each with a slightly different choice of words.

Isabella scrunched her eyebrows together and grimaced. " _Someone_ thought it would be funny to rig all of the ketchup bottles so they would explode when used at the dining hall. I'm glad I didn't get any glass stuck in my-"

Isabella blinked. Alex had flung herself over the back of a chair, Andromeda had fallen to her knees, her head in her hands, and she could see Maude walking down the hallway, hands flung into the air.


End file.
